Tag Archives: gluttony

Celebrate

Celebrate: (v) to acknowledge a significant or happy day or event with a social gathering

The reason needs to be larger than the plan.

I have often attended celebrations where the actual organization of the event overshadowed the purpose for us gathering.

I sometimes feel that way when I go to church. We forget that the real significance of clumping is to strengthen one another, build up our
confidence and share a common testimony of faith. Yet by the time we get done with candles, musicians, sound systems, bulletins, announcements and special music, the beauty of the conclave seems to get swallowed up.

What is it I’m celebrating?

I would agree with Kool and the Gang that I can celebrate good times.

Celebrate another day of living.

I love to celebrate that evil viciously appears to be dominant until it’s suddenly snuffed by its own greed.

I like to celebrate that something can be non-existent and because I’m alive, the creativity I’ve been granted can make freshness appear.

What are we celebrating?

Some of the holidays that hang around baffle me. I’m certainly grateful for the Armed Forces, but how many times are we going to salute them every year? And does every celebration in America have to be accompanied with a protracted exercise in gluttony?

I celebrate that even as I write this, all across the world there are people I will never know who read it–and out of their English grammar propriety, feel completely licensed to rip it apart.

What a wonderful world.

That’s what we can celebrate–with all its madness, diversity and pending doom and gloom, life still manages to give us a daily clean canvas, available for beautiful painting.

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Blueberry

Blueberry: (n) the small, sweet edible berry of the blueberry plant.

Dictionary B

If you ever wonder how important childhood is to our well-being as grown humans, just consider how many everyday items we view that we associate with some activity or some emotion.

For me, it’s an old metal bucket–and blueberries.

When I was a kid, my dad went fishing in Canada at least once a year, and he always came back with this huge metal pail, full of freshly picked blueberries. I don’t know how he picked so many or how he was able to keep them free from harm on the drive home.

But he would come walking into the house carrying this treasure, and to me it communicated one great potential: pies.

I think I was twenty years old before I realized that blueberries could be eaten without being sugared, jellied and stuffed in a crust. For about two weeks we would experience a glut of blueberry pies made by my mother, which promoted a gluttony which still threatens to infest me to this day.

I don’t know if there’s anything in life better than a blueberry pie.

Even though I am a grown male of our species and now eat blueberries separate from pies, when I get anywhere near them, I flash back to that huge tin container … filled to the brim with the little blue champions.

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Binge

Binge: (n) a short period devoted to indulging in an activity to excess

Dictionary B

Until guilt learns how to work in harmony with willpower, we will all feel like marionettes dangling from strings.

It doesn’t matter what your vice may be, although I must admit, some vices are allowed to be more visible than others. A fetish for hot fudge sundaes with extra bananas and cream can be touted much more than a preference for keeping company with little girls.

Yet deep inside every human being is some nagging piece of indulgence which always shows up on the days when our willpower has taken sick leave.

Thus the binge.

Even if guilt and willpower wrestled to a tie in our lives, we would have a fighting chance to control our inclinations or at least channel them in more productive directions. But because willpower and guilt are both affiliated with self-pity, we are never able to control our safari into the jungle of excess. Self-pity tells us that we are being cheated, but also that we are too weak to resist.

So we would seem to be at the mercy of the gluttony of our flesh.

There are those who overcome this by using some sort of rigid mental karma, but I don’t know how they ever reach that point.

‘Tis is the great mystery of this journey.

I think it’s probably one of the first things we’ll learn after passing on to a new world of understanding.

We will arrive in the heaven of our dreams, to discover that the secret of overcoming our binges was …

 

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Abomasum

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abomasum: n. the fourth stomach of a ruminant, which receives food from the omasum and passes it to the small intestine.

I got really excited with this one.

Being obese all my life and maintaining a commitment to the cause, I thought how terrific it would be to have four stomachs. You see, what you would possess is a greater potential for filling up–but ALSO you could evenly distribute your  gluttony so it wouldn’t SEEM like you were over-eating.

But then I considered the physique of these ruminants. Do I really want to look like a cow? Perhaps better phrased, do I want to continue to look like a cow? That’s bull.

So I decided that having four stomachs only quadruples the need for weight loss.

The other thing that bothered me about this particular word is how depressing it must be to be the fourth stomach. Talk about being the low man on the totem pole! What would get sent to the fourth stomach?? You have three other containers in front of you vying for the better parts of the intake.

Wouldn’t it be my luck to be a fourth stomach. How would you feel? Especially since you’re down there at the end of the line, and your job is to send crap to the small intestine.

I think we all do feel that way sometimes–we are the fourth stomach in a goat, doing nothing but puttin’ out a bunch of crap.

I’m going to stop writing now. It’s too depressing…

Abomasum

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abomasum: n. the fourth stomach of a ruminant, which receives food from the omasum and passes it to the small intestine.

I got really excited with this one.

Being obese all my life and maintaining a commitment to the cause, I thought how terrific it would be to have four stomachs. You see, what you would possess is a greater potential for filling up–but ALSO you could evenly distribute your  gluttony so it wouldn’t SEEM like you were over-eating.

But then I considered the physique of these ruminants. Do I really want to look like a cow? Perhaps better phrased, do I want to continue to look like a cow? That’s bull.

So I decided that having four stomachs only quadruples the need for weight loss.

The other thing that bothered me about this particular word is how depressing it must be to be the fourth stomach. Talk about being the low man on the totem pole! What would get sent to the fourth stomach?? You have three other containers in front of you vying for the better parts of the intake.

Wouldn’t it be my luck to be a fourth stomach. How would you feel? Especially since you’re down there at the end of the line, and your job is to send crap to the small intestine.

I think we all do feel that way sometimes–we are the fourth stomach in a goat, doing nothing but puttin’ out a bunch of crap.

I’m going to stop writing now. It’s too depressing…